Meaningful Memories
by DearOTraveler
Summary: All memories, no matter how long or short, vivid or blurry, are worth preserving. (Drabbles/Oneshots) (Sylander)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Tomorrow's Surprises

Disclaimer: The characters that make up the cartoon, Wander over Yonder, do not belong to me; neither does anything that you would recognize. Those wonderful things belong to Craig McCracken and his talented crew.

Summary: Tomorrow comes with a new surprise to try and outdo the smiles of yesterday.

Warning: Use of the pairing Sylander (Wander and Sylvia), as well as potential head-cannons. (Possibilities of it being a little AU)

Enjoy!

* * *

1. Happiness

A wide grin split his skinless cheeks as he sat in his black and red cushioned throne. Spikes glistened as the strong lights of fires bounced through the window, landing on the chair. The fresh smell of smoke was not bothersome; in fact, it was a sing of victory.

His electric green eyes narrowed as he continued to look out the broken door of this planet's Capitol. The smile only grew wider as new screams of fear echoed off of the building's grand walls.

Lord Hater felt a short bubble of laughter come up from his chest. It burst from his mouth in the form of an evil cackle.

While some people found happiness in a newborn's innocent smile or the freedom of nature, Lord Hater found happiness in the destruction of said things. He found happiness in evil.

2. Secret

Eyes falling to the grass green hat that he was clutching tightly, the smile fell from his face. No longer was his expression its usual cheerful self, instead it was full of sorrow.

Secretly, the little nomad was glad that Sylvia was not awake.

Suppressing the depressing feelings that he could feel quickly bubbling to the surface, Wander curled up around the large head wear. He bit his lip hard, almost drawing blood. However, the fight was futile and he ended up surrendering to the usually hidden emotions. The only sign being hot bead of tears as they slowly ran down his cheeks.

No, he decided. Sylvia could never know.

And at that tear filled moment, Wander had made his first secret.

3. Beauty

Wander, being his usual cheerful self, found beauty in every single thing; whether it be something large, small of hurtful. He found beauty in the sun when it shined every morning, and the rain when it flooded the ground. He found beauty in the frailest butterfly.

But the thing that he found to be the most beautiful, was the protective and blur furred Zbornak, named Sylvia.

4. Garden

Lord Hater looked over the small shoulder of his loyal commander, Peepers, at the unfolded map that covered the table. It had blotches of red and white skulls littering its indigo-black surface. The hand drawn planets and their surrounding stars were easily blocked out by the large stamps of his cartooned face.

With hands clasped behind his back, he listened to what the watchdog commander further go into detail about their plans to take over more planets. He nodded every so often.

His eyes darted from planet to planet, star to star in satisfaction. Sure, his garden of planets that he had taken over was small; but every good gardener takes their time to let their wonderful garden grow.

5. Give

Sylvia looked down at the slumbering nomad that lay curled up inside a floppy green hat, a soft smile making its way to the surface.

Her partner was always known to give and give all. He always gave help to other creature before helping him self.

And as she pushed a medium sized box closer to the nomad's face, the strong Zbornak decided that today Wander would be the one to receive and she would be the giver.

6. Jump

Her eyes were wide with fear for not only, but, mostly, for her rider. The smell of smoke reached her nostrils as they flared, one of the many signs that her instincts to flee were flaring up. She could feel her sky blue fur standing on end. Every inch of her mind was telling her to run, and get away from the rising danger.

But she could not. Not without Wander.

At the same time that she spread out her arms, Sylvia shouted loudly in hopes to get his voice heard over the roar of the ship's engines; "Jump!"

Equally panicked eyes met her own. Looking down with a gaze that quickly filling with tears, Wander shouted back; although his voice many octaves higher due to the powerful influence of fear. "What?"

"Wander, you need to jump!" Taking a step forward, she added, "now!"

Hands ringing together in obvious fear, said creature took a half step back - the opposite of what was wanted. "I-I can't!"

Growing impatient, Sylvia's eyes narrowed. "For glorp's sake, Wadner!" She yelled, noticing that the skeleton-themed ship had gotten closer to their spot. Trees fell as bright red lasers were blasted at the ground. "You have to jump!"

Turning his head around to face her once more instead of the oncoming ship and its laser induced fire, the nomad locked eyes with him. A tear ran down his face. "I-I'm scared!"

Gaze softening, Sylvia took a second step closer to the cliff's side. She lifted her arms a little bit higher.

"Don't worry!" She reassured him, "I'll catch you!"

"But-"

"Do you trust me?"

Halting for a second in surprise, Wander nodded. "Of course!"

"Then jump!"

Stepping forward, but still looking down at his shaking legs, Wander protested one last time; "But Syl-"

The ship's roar was ever closer now. Sylvia could practically hear the mocking laugh that was of their (well, hers rather) most hated enemy. She roared nearly as loud; "Now!"

A laser hit the ground just where he had been standing. But it singed only dulled green grass.

Wander had jumped.

It took no more than a second or two, and before he knew it, Wander was being held tightly to a board chest. He looked up with wide eyes.

"Told you I'd catch you." And she always would.

7. Hope

There was a well known myth about stars, that they shone with extremely hot gas. Nothing more.

But what people did not know what that they were completely wrong.

Stars did not shine and twinkle due to excess amounts of gas. Instead, their colors and sparkling was from hope, and that alone. All of the stars held grand amounts of hope deep within them. Every single one shined brightly; more often than not, brighter than the biggest and hottest sun.

However, there was one star out there in the universe that shined brighter than all of the rest. One that held the most hope out of them all.

And its name was Wander.

8. Reminded

"No."

His eyes widened, filling quickly with the disbelief as he looked on at the crumbling planet. The jerking and splitting of the once stable crust did nothing to jerk the small creature out of his trance.

His eyebrows furrowed. "No." He whispered again, his voice barely qualifying as so.

Buildings toppled to the torn up ground, not being able to withstand the shaking any longer. Glass, bricks, and other types of debris littered the ground; some even making it as far as him thanks to the sudden gusts of wind. Despite the stinging of a few cuts, he ignored the pain.

"No." The nomad, eyes filling with tears now, looked around at the destruction. He gasped as a family of three barely dodged a dislodged building. "No!"

This could not be happening. His heart lurched as several parts of the rocky surface of the green planet were forced upwards, reaching towards the skies. He held his breath as dark clouds rolled in; whether it being just dust or actual storm clouds, it was unclear. It just could not. Not now!

"C'mon, bud! We gotta go!"

Remaining still, the secretive traveler allowed himself to be thrown atop of a familiar black saddle a moment later. He allowed himself to flee from the destruction and into the calm atmosphere that was of the flea-shaped ship. "No." He continued to mumble.

Trudging over to the window, he put his hands to the cold glass and proceeded to watch the familiar scene of a planet getting unwillingly destroyed. He hit the window, and at the same time his head tipped in sorrowed.

_'No.'_ The male thought to himself, eyes now closed tightly in order to stop the memory-induced tear. _'It can't end like this.'_

And he would not let it. Not without a fight.

_'Not again.'_ He had- no, he _would_ do something about it.

9. Distance

Whether it was as short as five feet or as long as ten thousand miles, Sylvia was sure to come running if her friend needed her help.

It did not matter the distance. Not one bit.

10. Peace

Their views about peace could not be any more different. Their hearts called for different forms of the word.

One found peace in bright smiles and warm hugs. While the other found peace to be mainly of destruction and war.

In the long run, however, their hearts were beating for more than simply wealth or joy. They were crying out for someone, rather than something as avoiding as true peace.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Little Things

Disclaimer: The characters that make up the cartoon, Wander over Yonder, do not belong to me; neither does anything that you would recognize. Instead, those wonderful things belong to Craig McCracken and his crew.

Summary: Memories are made from smaller thoughts, both good and bad.

Warning: Mention of Sylander (Sylvia and Wander) romance, as well as potential head-cannons. (Possibilities of it being a little AU)

Enjoy!

* * *

11. Brush

There were many things that Wander liked, or rather loved, a whole lot. His loyal friend, Sylvia, and the grass green hat that sat on his head were at the very top of that list.

So was brushing, especially when it came to his bright orange fur.

Sure, he liked to comb the short haired coat that was of Sylvia, but the part that held his top, most interest was when it came to be his turn.

No, it was not because of how he would sit in Sylvia's lap, with her tail curled gently, yet protectively, around his small frame. Nor was it the feel of her fingers as they, too, combed through his long fur coat to find any undetected knots.

Instead, it was of the feeling that he felt afterwards. The way the brushing would make his fur feel much softer, as it it were snow. Regardless if the action made him seem a whole lot puffier than normal for a couple of minutes.

Wait, scratch that. Wander sighed, at the same time his eyes fluttered close in content. No, he decided. The puffiness was the best part.

12. Unusual

Their friendship was nothing short of unusual and odd to some people. Especially with the two being completely different species. While that component was not completely unheard of, it was surprising on the fact that the two were a strong Zbornak and a giddy star nomad.

Some called it strange. Others declared it needless.

However, to the Zbornak and the star nomad, it was nothing short of joy and content. It was everything but unusual.

13. Feeling

As he looked up at the star and planet littered sky that only showed these wonderful features as night, a strange feeling filled him; stretching from head to toe. While it would cause someone to become confused and frown at the lack of answers, instead it had him smiling from ear to ear.

This was a familiar feeling. A wonderful feeling. An amazing one.

He blinked as a sudden flash of light cut through the dark shadows of the aged tree that he was resting under. Breaking his awe-struck gaze with the flickering canvas far above him, Wander looked down at the hat that he was comfortably resting in. The large star pin that was placed in the middle of the head piece flashed a yellow light in quick successions.

Reaching out a hand, he patted the black band that ran around the hat's middle section. The star, now, remained shining its bright yellow light; satisfied with getting its owner's attention.

He was not the only one to figure the feeling out. No, his hat had as well.

The stars were calling him, and it was a feeling that he treasured most.

14. Exposed

He turned around, craning his neck so that he could see better. His eyebrows furrowed, adding to the wrinkles that were already on his rounded face. His lips parted as he shakily inhaled. "No," he breathed.

Eyes of all different colors locked with his, showing the nomad all of their emotions. Disbelief, anger, sadness, sympathy, shock... He saw it all. So clearly.

His lips turned down in a frown. His jaw clenched as a familiar feeling overcame him, clouding his senses and his thoughts in a matter of seconds. It made his hands become sweaty as they clenched into small fists. That feeling made his insides twist and his stomach flip.

It was fear. And it made him feel so vulnerable. So exposed.

15. Leave

The sky roared far above him, deep thunder splitting the familiar hush of night. The loud noise shook the ground and made the many houses shake. Rain aided in the thunder's attempt to cause an uproar. The small drops of recycled pond and ocean water fell in gallons, effectively covering every surface imaginable. Leaves and branches bend from the unexpected harshness of the rain as it proceeded to flood the village. Drops of cold rain were swept this way and that as the occasional gush of wind rolled through, seeming to make way for the bright lightning that would quickly come afterwards. The white light flashed, not caring if it damaged any creature's fragile corneas.

Despite the booming storm, that was not the thing that had kept him up into the early hours of the morning.

No, the thing that kept him up was not something that would simply come and go when it pleased. This was something different. The thing that probed at his mind was not so easily cast away. Not until he did something, that is.

And with that in mind, he pushed the covers off of him and stood from the bed; uncaring of the icy feeling of the floorboards. No shivers racked his body, nor did any goosebumps. He was silent.

The nomad silently placed an emerald-colored hat on his head, the slight weight a familiar comfort. He let out a sigh.

At least one thing, he mused, was staying the same.

Slowly closing the bedroom door behind him, the nomad ventured down the recognizable stretch of hallway. Framed pictures occasionally hung from the aged walls, the glass tossing back his stoic expression as he passed. He was not afraid.

He passed picture after picture and closed room after room. All else slept soundly on through the storm-filled night; not one family member knowing of his bedtime actions. He did not dare touch the doorknob of the last room, the one on his immediate right. But he did stop, eyes now resting on the closed, wooden door instead of the recently washed floorboards. Lightning flashed once more outside, harshly lighting up the planet's soaked terrain.

He stared at the thin, yet sturdy, barrier; the one thing that separated him from telling his long-since planned secret. He was not guilty, nor was he frightened. A sad smile pulled at his lips.

_'Goodbye.'_

Moments later, a small figure could be seen cautiously exiting a spacious house. Slumped shoulders could easily be seen, as well; but whether it was of sadness or not, one would not know. Droplets of rain bounced off of his green and yellow-starred umbrella, him being the only thing outside that was sheltered from the unrelenting rain. He took one last look over his shoulder at the towering building that he knew to be his home. He was not mad.

Turning back around, the nomad started off towards the edge of the familiar village. He was not doubtful.

He was leaving.

16. Dislike

Wander found very few things, if any at all, that came to his disliking. For, he liked all things: mainly his friends, Sylvia, Lord Hater, Westly, Commander Peepers, and the colorful spring flowers.

But, as he glanced down at the untouched pie that silently rested on the picnic table between the two of them, an unpleasant feeling came about him; starting in his stomach. Said organ flipped and flopped, churning during every second. It was nothing short of undesirable.

At that moment, Wander had found the one thing that he did not like: Jellyfish Pie.

17. Hero

"Have you ever considered that maybe you're not the hero?"

The young knight looked up at his classmate with wide eyes. His thick eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, if the expression was not distinguishable from the look in his dark colored eyes. "What d'ya mean?"

"What I _mean_ is," heaving a sigh, the older, much so, knight-in-training ran a hand through his chestnut-colored hair. The bangs fell back in place as his arm fell back to his side as harsh words spilled from his mouth. "You're not a hero, Bradley. You're just not suited for it."

Frowning, the young knight corrected; "It's _Brad_."

He rolled his eyes, "whatever." Hand tightening on the handle that was attached expertly to a sharped blade, the brunette, named Samuel, further explained, "You're not a hero. I mean, look at you!" He pointed down at the clumsy attire that his classmate had put together. "That's not proper knight attire! It looks ridiculous-"

Stomping, young Brad interrupted, "no it's not! My mother helped me -"

"That's another thing! Proper knights have manners and know when they are supposed to speak!" Samuel retorted, his tanned face turning into a facade of annoyance.

"Look," his voice softened after a long stretch of silence. "Brad, you know I'm all for you to become a knight, we all are. You'll do great in the class and training, that's for sure. But the thing is," he paused, searching for the right set of words. "You're just not ready for it yet. You will be, but that day isn't today. Do you understand?"

Frowning, the younger male looked down at the polished tile. He crossed his arms; "Yeah."

However, as Brad watched the familiar student vanish deeper into the lunch-hour crowd, a silent thought poked at his mind: He understood clearly, though he was not so positive about every one else.

He _was_ going to become the hero, no matter what.

18. Prove

The control panel was like a Christmas tree, the lights flashed on and off repeatedly in quick successions. Different colors lit up the room, ranging from incredibly bright red to a mellow purple. His fingers flew from button to button, pressing down and tapping against ones that were both large and small.

A sudden break in the flashing lights caused the skeleton creature to glance up at the several-foot-long computer screen. Its open windows were pushed aside and momentarily forgotten as a new page was forcibly opened, looking much different. Unlike the others, its backdrop was a florescent yellow rather than a blank white, and it had blood red letters sprawled across the display.

He froze as he read those couple of words

_"If I can't complete this, then you can't do it!" "You can't!"_

An alarm suddenly came on, blaring and roaring its familiar high pitched sound. The sudden noise caused the commander in training to jump in surprise, effectively breaking his trance. His eyebrows furrowed in thought as his brain properly went to work.

He had to come up with a way to fix this. He just _had to._

_"You're just a kid! You're too young for this kind o' stuff."_

He knew how to do it, that was for sure. But, as he looked back down at the large keyboard, his hands remained hovering above the extended device, immobile.

He definitely had an answer to this. No doubt about it.

So... why weren't his hands moving?

He blinked. If he could not finish this... then... he would not pass...

And if he did not pass...

_"You won't amount to anything worth mentioning..."_

No!

He turned back to face the continuously blinking computer with a brand new determination swimming inside his twin green eyes. Said orbs narrowed and his hands flew back onto the keyboard. Compared to a few minutes previous, his fingers were flying over the many lit-up buttons.

He was definitely going to pass this exam. Without a doubt.

_"...much less ruling the galaxy!"_

A small smirk lit up his skinless face, reeking with confidence. He was going to prove all of them wrong. Today.

And he was _so _going to be ruler of the galaxy.

19. Time

With time, he would conquer the galaxy. With time, he would become the ultimate ruler of everything. Every town, every creature, every planet, everything that breathed and walked and slept, he would be the ruler of.

With time.

Lord Hater knew that he would not become supreme ruler of the galaxy in a day. It was not something that could happen so quickly, no.

He let out a frustrated sigh, taking yet another glance at his newly bought (more like stolen, _ha ha!_) wristwatch. His eyes narrowed as they caught sight of the two numbers that the two innocent clock hands were pointing at.

Though maybe... time could move its butt a little more faster?

20. Fairy tale

She looked at the large span of land through the bedroom window. The soft green of the planet's ground stretched as far as her eyes could see, disappearing suddenly over the horizon's thin edge. Dark colored trees stood tall, some even reaching the lip of the window, and buildings could be seen dotting the paved road, here and there. The soft chirping of the native birds and the cheerful laughter of children could be easily heard over the calm wind that brushed through the ruled land.

The sounds and sights of her kingdom made a smile come to her face, the gentle action causing slight dimples to form in the middle of her pale cheeks.

She waved to a family of four as they walked over a nearby hill to reach a thriving garden of ripe apple tress and juicy blueberries. The smile grew even brighter.

Sure, Princess Demora knew that life was not a fairy tale, definitely. But, it sure did feel like it sometimes.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2 - Occasions

Disclaimer: The characters that make up the cartoon, Wander over Yonder, do not belong to me; neither does anything that you would recognize. Instead, those wonderful things belong to Craig McCracken and his crew.

Summary: There is no such thing as 'a simple coincidence'. Things happen for a reason.

Warning: Mention of Sylander (Sylvia and Wander) romance, as well as potential head-cannons. (Possibilities of it being a little AU)

Enjoy!

* * *

21. Smile

Lord Hater crossed his arms over his broad chest, ignoring the wrinkling of his red and black robe. The familiar scowl that he wore on his face got even darker as whispers of a certain nomad's name drifted that much closer. His frown grew even larger, stretching down towards his rounded chin - if that was even possible.

As the skeleton overlord continued marching through his ship's seemingly endless hallways, his mind finally settled on a thought- no, scratch that. A _promise._

He was going to wipe that smile right off that little nomad's face.

22. Cats

Now, Sylvia did not like a lot things, with Lord Hater and his annoying watchdog army being at the very top of that list, though also on that list was cold weather, girly things (especially the color pink _ugh!_), extremely hot temperatures, and the occasional predator that was stupid enough to go after a healthy Zbornak (in her opinion).

But the one thing that she hated almost as much as girly things and the color pink, was something that not a lot of people took an agreement to. Probably, now that she thought about it, the completely opposite for most.

And that thing was cats. Yes, _cats._

Her eyes narrowed with hatred as she was (sort of) guilt-tripped into helping out yet _another _planet that was in obvious distress. Her nostrils flared at the thought of eventually encountering a space feline. If it were not for the special (and clearly favored) nomad that sat on the black saddle, then the Zbornak was positive that would have (though very ashamed) bypassed the troubled planet and its terrified inhabitants.

_Meow._

Her fur stood on end at just hearing the feline's howl as it echoed through the blankness that was of space. The way that those animals thought they were at the top of the pyramid of 'social class and power' all of the time got, especially, on her nerves. The looks that the occasional traveling creature would send a bystander's way; looks of over confidence and (much-needed-reducing) ego.

A tug on her reins pulled Sylvia out of her silent rage. "Oh, look'it, Syl! The lil' critter sees us! Say hi!"

Green eyes flicked their way and an annoyed, almost smug, look was tossed their way - thankfully unnoticed by the overly cheery star nomad.

Oh, yeah. She _totally _hated cats.

23. Rainbow

"Wander..." she trailed off, the previous thought dying upon looking at the cheerful nomad. "What happened?"

Eyes flickering up to land on his strong companion, the star nomad answered through a mouth full of still-warm mushroom and carrot chili. "Wha'?"

Gesturing with her worn spoon, Sylvia clarified, "your fur. What's up with your fur?"

Looking down at his long fur coat, Wander's face morphed into a look of understanding. "Oh, yeah! I was playing with a few birds today." He swallowed a small spoonful of carrots and smooth broth. "While you were sleepin' earlier."

"Oh," and the protective Zbornak went back to eating the tasty supper. A moment of silence passed between the two hungry beings, the only thing taking hold of their attention was the cooling food.

"Y'know we're gonna have to wash that stuff off, right?" Sylvia declared through loud slurps of the now-empty-bowl of chili.

Shocked, Wander curled in on himself, hoping that the simple action would dismiss the declared idea. "No!"

Eyes drooping, Sylvia set the down in her lap. "Wander, we have to. If we don't, then it'll permanently stain your fur."

Pouting, the nomad still denied - although a bit softer this time; "No. It's _my _rainbow."

24. Comfortable

Sylvia stared at the circling star nomad with furrowed eyebrows. "Wander."

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

Pausing for but a second, Wander answered, "getting comfortable." With that, he circled a few more times in front of the Zbornak's large hide before taking off his green hat and sliding inside. "G'night, Syl." Within moments, he fell into a comfortable slumber.

25. Pie

"I'll take that one," the nomad decided, pointing to a small display case that sat left of the glass counter. He stood on his toes as he further explained his order to the baker; "One big slice of your famous Jellyfish pie, please!"

Nodding, the well-known baker lifted the large glass lid and promptly slid a particularly large triangular piece of the still-warm pie into a simply decorated paper box. The scraping of the cardboard sides was soft compared to his deep voice when the baker asked, "I thought that star nomad's weren't overly fond of this type of pie?"

Shrugging his narrow shoulders, Wander took out a small bag of coins from his floppy green hat. Sliding it across the counter in exchange for the packaged pastry, he answered, "I'm not a liker, no. But this is for a good friend o' mine! She's not feelin' too well, sadly." His usual smile turned into a concerned frown. "I'm hopin' this'll make 'er feel better."

Glancing down at the many coins that were resting in his hand, the employer of the family-run store decided to cut the familiar customer some slack. So, he dropped half of the gold-colored coins onto the logo-topped box with a soft smile. "I'm sure she'll better soon thanks to your kind heart, son."

"But, sir-"

Raising a hand, the aged alien interrupted, "don't say a word! This pie is half off, though just for today. Now," he leaned over the front of the counter, pushing the young alien towards the still-open doors. A breeze rolled through the lit up pastry shop. "You get on back to your friend. Hurry, and come back soon!"

Waving, the nomad hurried out the open doors of the shop, taking a sharp left after the small array of trees, berry-filled bushes, and pots of daffodils. "Thank you!"

26. Sweets

When it came to Wander and food, Sylvia was often very relaxed and accepting of the ideas that the small nomad would offer around the time for supper; often ranging from an assortment of chilies to salads, depending on the availability of their surroundings. They had the three main meals of the day - breakfast, lunch, and dinner - as well as any snacks that they happened to be offered from a certain, stubborn hat.

But there was one thing - well, food_ group_ - that the Zbornak would never, _ever_ suggest to the cheerful nomad.

And that was sweets.

27. Origin

Despite having an origin that consisted of star dust and expanding galaxies, Wander knew one thing to be absolutely true. He would rather be a prisoner of land than space if it meant that he would be by his best friend's side.

After all, origins are not the important thing. It's what you make of your past that is most significant.

28. Lost

The two of them had been running for as long as they could remember. Both for reasons that the were of both similarity and differences. One was cheerful and orange, the other being strong and blue.

They were both as lost as caterpillar in a boat in the middle of the ocean. Each of them were as lost as can be.

That is, until they found each other - as fate would have it. For, despite being lost, two halves make a whole.

And they were no longer lost alone, but lost together.

29. Snowflake

Their friendship was like a snowflake, unlike any other. While it was annoying to some - especially a certain skeletal overlord, others looked at them in awe.

For, to most, having a friendship as unique as theirs was nothing short of special.

30. Mine

Lord Hater glared angrily out of the wide windshield of the metal ship. What would have been bright, twinkling stars, were now just a mushed bundle of blurs and colors. His eyes narrowed.

Cranking down on the accelerator even harder, the overlord paid no mind to the yelps and pleads to slow down that came through the locked door, all sounds courteous of his loyal watchdog army. He frowned.

_No way _was he going to let some random evil-doer destroy his two most despised enemies in the galaxy. No!

That was _his _job! Those idiots were _his_, not some spontaneous kidnapper.

The ship's large engine roared as he sped around planets and other things, like space junk. His gloved hands tightly gripped the steering wheel, green lightning sparking and snapping off of his bony arms.

_He _was going to destroy Wander and Sylvia. Those were _his _enemies.

"They're _mine._"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Remembering

Disclaimer: The characters that make up the cartoon, Wander over Yonder, do not belong to me; neither does anything that you would recognize. Instead, those wonderful things belong to Craig McCracken and his crew.

Summary: One can choose to remember things, good or bad. But sometimes life can be uncompromising.

Warning: Mention of Sylander (Sylvia and Wander) romance, as well as potential head-cannons. (Possibilities of it being a little AU)

Enjoy!

* * *

31. Kiss

It is said that when you kiss the love of your life, the sensations change every time. One moment it can be sparks of joy and the next it could be churning into a heated anger. It all depends on the couple.

Briefly breaking her gaze with the wrinkled piece of colored paper that she held tightly in her hands as she walked, the Zbornak felt a pair of lips abruptly land on her cheek. At the sudden action, her already large eyes widened even further; surprise swimming within the twin dark orbs.

Sylvia blinked. Momentarily, her limbs stopping all movement and, in turn, causing her to stumble. She felt a blush of surprise quickly forming on the side of her angular face. And the fact that she stuttered did not really help.

Look, instead, over her shoulder at the wildly smiling nomad, Sylvia blurted, "w-what'd you do that for?"

"Because!" Small hands clasping together, the male answered; his voice ringing out happily. "You're working so hard at tryin' to get us to a town! So," he trailed off, eyes flickering down for but a moment. "I thought I'd reward you for all your hard work an' all."

The Zbornak turned back around to face the large map, not caring if her rider noticed the unusually wide smirk or not. Surprise rapidly fading, she responded, "well, then I guess I'll have to do more work, more often, huh?"

Her smile only proceeded to grow wider as the soft bout of giggles from the creature, who sat on her saddled back, reached her ears.

The same could not be said about other couples, but Sylvia was sure that her kisses with Wander were nothing short of surprising.

32. Dresses

Turning at the sound of the door opening, Sylvia started; "Alright, bud, let's g-" She blinked in surprise, the words dying in her throat.

For a moment or two, the only thing that the partners exchanged was silence and stares.

"Wander," the Zbornak sighed, a hand brushing through her pink-tinted mane. "What're you wearing?"

Looking down at his newly obtained attire, the nomad replied, "a dress."

"I see that. But why?"

"Because I like it!" Wander explained, and twirled a few times to let the taller being a glance at all angles of the poofy, green gown. "What d'ya think? Do I look pretty?"

Sylvia rolled her eyes, although the normally negative action was disproved by a small smirk. "Sure, I guess so."

33. Heartbeat

Wander leaned his head against the broad abdomen that was covered in Sylvia's familiar sky blue fur. He stared out at the dark canvas of space, though not seeing any of it.

A soft and steady _thump th-thump _filled his ears immediately. A smile split his cheeks as his eyelids slowly fluttered closed for a final time that night. That sound made him feel safe. It made him feel not so alone.

34. Love

She was better with actions, rather than words. And he was better with the opposite - more so words, than actions.

He would wake her proclaims of his love for her. He would whisper soft 'I love you's' before drifting off to sleep. The star nomad was sure to not leave a moment quiet for too long.

While he was talking, she would leave him a flower or two in the folds of a familiar green hat. She would scoop him up in hugs and offer a quick peek on the cheek before closing her eyes to end a long day.

Their love was just as the same as it was diverse. They had different ways to show the other their affections, but the end result was just the same: _I love you._

35. More Than

She loved that cheerful star nomad more than jellyfish pies, especially her favorite bakery's - Slarnack's Deli - handmade pastries. And that was saying a lot.

36. Roses

Wander knew that Sylvia was not one who favored a grand bouquet of flowers, much less roses. So, when he came strolling back towards their camp that cool morning, Sylvia was beyond touched.

For he had gotten her a wagon full of gooey and golden-crusted jellyfish pies.

37. Reason

"Look," Sylvia fixated her gaze on the orange bundle that she held tightly in her embrace. Eyebrows furrowing, she confessed, "I know you have a thousand reasons to run; and what they are, I don't know."

At that, his bright blue eyes fell to the large arms that were wrapped around his slim waist. The usually wide orbs quickly filled with guilt.

"But there is something I do know."

Her fingers gently lifted his chin so that he was looking at her once more. The concerned frown long gone, a small smile now framed the Zbornak's face.

"You've got a thousand and one reasons to stay, here with me."

38. First

Sylvia knew that he belonged to the universe, being "the light of all the galaxy" and everything.

She crossed her arms and pouted.

Though the only thing that really mattered was the fact that Wander belonged to her first.

39. Hands

Despite being much shorter than her, Wander noticed something that made the soft smile stretch even wider on his face.

Fingers curling so that they closed every gap, her much larger hand gently engulfed his.

His cheeks throbbed as the smile finally stopped its growing. Despite having a gigantic height different, the one thing that fit together like puzzle pieces was their hands.

40. Smile

Sylvia knew that if Wander was smiling then all was well. His smiles meant joy and positive words that were quick to follow.

However, she _also _knew that if that smile faltered or did not bother to show itself, then something was wrong. And if something was bothering her favorite traveler, then she knew what to do...

Let's just say that whomever makes him frown, then the wrongdoer would meet a smile of her own; and maybe with a side of fists.

She would do _anything _- even if it meant to inflict a few bruises - to get Wander to smile again.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - No More Control

Disclaimer: The characters that make up the Disney cartoon, Wander over Yonder, do not belong to me; nor does anything that you could recognize. Those wonderful things belong to Craig McCracken and his crew.

Summary: For years, she had always been able to keep her emotions and feelings in check. But now, ever since meeting that star nomad, who had deemed himself as Wander, it seemed that she was no longer in control.

Warning: Mention of Sylander (Sylvia and Wander) romance, as well as potential head-cannons. (Possibilities of it being a little AU)

Enjoy!

* * *

41. Control

For years, she had been known to be silent and strong. Her strength was, even for her species, remarkable and often hard to come by. How no wall of cage could stand a chance against her was only the beginning of the many rumors. She was also widely known for being able to keep her emotion in check. How she rarely let someone see that she was feeling sad or growing angry. The only thing that she allowed people to see was an unimpressed frown or a smug smirk.

At least, a couple of years ago she was able to. Now... it was not so true.

These days, the Zbornak showed every emotion possible, whether it was intentional or not. She smiled when she was happy, and she cried at times that she was unbelievably sad. Now, she rarely showed her once familiar stoic facade.

Her dark-colored eyes landed on a familiar fluff of bright orange fur. Her eyelids fell as she quietly gazed down at the calm nomad that sat comfortably in her lap. A smile crept along her face.

She had changed, that was for sure.

Part of her was happy that she had changed into the type of Zbornak that she was now. She was glad, proud even, to put her needs aside in order to help people whenever she was able. Sure she complained about priorities, especially since Wander's arrival, but they were quickly put aside every time.

Whether or not it was because of something that the star nomad had said, she was not quite clear.

_'But still,'_ she trailed off, eyes still glued to the quiet creature that she held. She was willing to change her mind on anything, it was for him.

The Zbornak blinked, her gaze momentarily breaking from the calm features of the nomad below her.

Whoa... that was... _different..._

Deciding to save that comment for later probing, Sylvia resumed with her gentle combing of the nomad's fur coat. She chuckled softly as the actions brought about a purr from the much smaller alien.

She leaned into view, a small bit of smug lighting up in her brown eyes. Her lips parting in a similar smile, Sylvia asked, "are you really happy or somethin', buddy?"

A light blush spread along the cheeks of the nomad. Not able to keep a frown, Wander mumbled amiss a forming smile; "Yes."

"I've never heard you make that sound before." Further commenting on the odd sound, Sylvia said, "did you lose control of something for a second?"

Said alien sighed as he further snuggled into the caring embrace that was of his closest companion. A smile made of nothing but content stretched across her soft features once more. "I guess so."

"Oh."

It still struck her with confusion - did Wander not care about losing control over himself? Did he not worry about if he would become embarrassed if the wrong sequence of words slipped from his mouth? Was he not worried?

Wander looked up at his captor, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He spoke slowly, "was I not supposed to?" The tone in his voice further accenting his puzzlement.

Sylvia internally kicked herself for alighting the unnecessary confusion in the equally young creature. She ran a hand through her thick mane, trying to find the right way to explain.

"No, I-I guess, but-" she momentarily struggled, a low growl rippling in her throat at the obvious irritation. "It's just... aren't you embarrassed?"

"About what-" turning in his spot in the Zbornak's lap, Wander fully faced the struggling female. Realization suddenly claimed his round face as its own, as well as an understanding smile. "Oh, _that_!" He laughed, hands falling in his lap. Sections of his fur ruffled in place as a cool breeze raced through the clearing that they had took refuge in. "Nope."

Sylvia was barely able to mask the slight surprise that had overtaken her. Sure, she had known Wander to be many things - being happy and helpful was a constant - but, clearly, this was another thing to add to the list. She was not expecting this response from the nomad: carefree and chill about the possibility of being made fun of.

Then again, she probably should have been. Wander was many things.

Unconsciously her arms moved in wild gestures as she further explained; "W-Well, aren't you worried about being made fun of for making a noise like that?"

Now it was Wander's turn to look surprised. "Why would ya say that, Syl?"

Sylvia looked to the side, suddenly finding herself to be getting embarrassed. She brought a hand to the back of her neck. "W-Well-"

"I don't have anything to worry about. You won't make fun of me." Wander admitted, taking that split second of silence to look straight into the wide eyes of his companion.

Deciding to lighten the mood between the two of them, Sylvia snapped her fingers and clicked her tongue in mock disappointment. "Darn," she joked, "I guess not." Hearing the string of giggles coming from the usually positive alien below her, she continued.

"If you won't be worked up over a noise like that, then I guess I have nothing to worry over either, right buddy?" She said with all seriousness.

Smile beaming with a familiar brightness, Wander chirped, "nope!"

Just as quickly as their conversation had showed itself and its potential awkwardness, it was locked safely away for future dwelling on both parties. The duo resumed with their ritual - watching the daily setting of the planet's nearby sun.

Just like always, Wander snuggled further into the welcoming embrace that was of his trusty steed, Sylvia. Said being wrapped her large arms around the slim abdomen that was of her cheerful rider, careful to keep her hold firm yet gentle enough so that no harm would come to him.

However, unlike that last couple of times, Sylvia paid little to no attention to the territorial birds that loudly squawked in protest when another ventured too close. Not even the silent, practically inaudible, flapping of its two pairs of wings as a butterfly fluttered just inches from their feet. None of that mattered to him, at least not at the moment.

Sylvia smiled, all of her muscles relaxing as she committed herself to be as content and carefree as possible. If not for her own health or the sake of her mind, then for the small creature that sat comfortably in her lap.

_'I guess,'_ he started, _'if Wander has nothing to be embarrassed about, then there's nothing for me to worry about either.'_ The smile on her face giving away the satisfying conclusion.

"I'm so happy right now!" Wander squealed as the full settings of the sun became apparent and it tinted the once bright blue ocean a dark violet. His slim fingers curled around her otherwise wide ones, tightening his previously slack grip. "Aren't you, Sylvia?"

For once, Sylvia did not hesitate on a response.

For once, Sylvia was not all that worried about what someone's comment about her feelings would be.

Echoing his smile, although in a much softer appearance, Sylvia happily agreed; "Yeah, me too."

For once, Sylvia, the once controlling and stoic Zbornak, was not mad that she had no control.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - His Star

Disclaimer: The characters that make up the cartoon, Wander over Yonder, do not belong to me; nor does anything that you could recognize. Those wonderful things belong to Craig McCracken and his crew.

Summary: Even though he was the universe's bright light, that little bundle of bright orange fur belonged to her first. (Continuation of Ch.4 #38)

Warning: Mention of Sylander (Sylvia and Wander) romance, as well as potential head-cannons. (Possibilities of it being a little AU)

**A/N: I want to apologize now for the incredibly shortness of this chapter. But, hey, I made up for it with the other two, don'tcha think?**

Enjoy!

* * *

42. His

They had been together for years and she had yet to be completely comfortable with the nomad's helpful antics. The way that Wander would be willing to put down everything on the fly to help a random bystander was something that still struck him with surprise to this day. Or the way that she smiled at all things that moved, whether it be as mean as a Cyclopes or as calm as a butterfly.

Even though she, just like most, had bad days and would often become annoyed at something as simple as a leaf falling too close to her head, her companion's deeds had never crossed that line. It had yet to succeed to make him yell in frustration.

Most of the time.

In the end, Wander's actions always made her smile - either in pride or just in simple humor. She pulled the slumbering nomad closer to her.

He was not that bad, after all. Sylvia was glad to be the keeper of a star so bright.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - Remembering

Disclaimer: The characters that make up the cartoon, Wander over Yonder, do not belong to me; neither does anything that you would recognize. Instead, those wonderful things belong to Craig McCracken and his crew.

Summary: One can choose to remember things, good or bad. But sometimes life can be uncompromising.

Warning: Mention of Sylander (Sylvia and Wander) romance, as well as potential head-cannons. (Possibilities of it being a little AU)

**A/N: I recently started a poll for this story, so heads up! Check it out!**

Enjoy!

* * *

43. Darkness

They inched closer to the small creature, being as silent as the inky blackness that they were born from. They made not a sound. Silent. Small tendrils stretched ever further, twisting and curling over fallen leaves. As they crawled over the field of tall flowers and trees, they shook with increasing yearning. To _touch him. _To _see him._

To _feel him. _

The transparent beings stopped short. Their forms, instead of stretching longways, were now a condensed blob; tucked close to one another. Though it did not bother them, no. It was better this way. To be _together. _As _one, _not _separated_.

It lurched forward after a long moment, itching more so than ever to just _reach and touch -_

There was a sigh, and the figure shifted; turning over onto its side. The soft, barely audible, rustle of fabric was heard by the silent beings; causing them to shrink back suddenly. Tiny arms curled tightly, held back in worry.

_Had it awoken?_ The beings, shadows, sunk low to the ground, awaiting. Observing. _No.._

The shadows tingled from end to end in with glee, being so close. So near. It tentatively reached out a single arm, weary of the much larger beast that was slumbering not even a foot away. Ignoring the pull of the warm breeze as it rushed through the deserted forest, the curious silhouettes rolled just a bit closer... _aha!_

_Soft. _Black colored fingers gently touched his face. Orange - the bundle of shadows was sure of - tufts of fur tickled its duo of arms as it slowly, _cautiously_, glided across the youth's forehead, cheeks, and chin. The apparition reared up with _joy, _giddy for moments to come - surely, right? - at the opportunity to touch, _caress, _a creation of the stars.

It reached forward again, gently stroking the sides of the nomad's wrinkle-free face. The shadows watched, torn emotionally, as, in seconds, as the wide smile on the slumbering creation's face slowly changed; lips folding down into an uncomfortable frown. Eyebrows wrinkled - in either pain or confusion, the silhouette did not know.

The darkness was sad to be feared by such a wonderful creature, who harbored excellent amounts of light and _happiness. _On the other hand, however, it was _giddy _to be frowned at. For it meant that _he knew it was there!_

Such gladness the shadows felt. To be _noticed! _And by the child of the _stars,_ no less!

The inky black form curled around the tightly bundled star nomad, noticing everything but one _important detail._ Still, it hugged the bipedal close, ignoring the green hat that its newly-discovered possession was resting in. Its form pulsed with a long-since-felt emotion. It surrounded the now-restless child, tendrils sneaking further down and across the length of the headdress; getting ever closer to the band in the middle and the -

It pulled away with a hiss, as if it had gotten burned.

No longer trapping the nomad in its icy embrace, the haunt leaned in close and fixated its narrowed gaze at the middle of the magical hat. Staring confidently back was a now-glowing star piece, emanating a strong yellow glow.

The black apparition growled softly, its low-pitched voice echoing off of the aged bark of trees and crinkled leaves of berry-coated bushes. It ignored the whimper of the frightened, yet still asleep, star nomad as it rushed forward once more, hoping to initiate a change in the hat.

_Ah! _The shadows shrieked loudly, and the sudden sound caused the birds to squawk in response before fluttering off into the distance. It curled inward, shielding the burned section. It glared at the still-glowing star.

The wind rolled through, pulling once more at the recently injured shadows. It whistled lowly, the sound passing through the trail and growing louder as it bounced off of trunks and moss-covered boulders. It struck a chord in the dark cluster of longing shadows, causing it to break free of its trance with the shining hat and star pin.

Would it stay, wondered the hat? Or would it leave? Its star pulsed once, then once more; the golden light illuminating the camp sight of its owner. If not..

The shadow abruptly sunk low to the ground, lying in hiding among the uncut grass. The bulbous form of black gradually snaked its way backwards towards the towering forest's line; never once taking its invisible eyes off of the pulsating, sentient object. Once more feeling its fellow partners of darkness, the daring shadow cluster rose to an impressive height - almost as tall as a neighboring tree.

It watched, like always. Rippling and churning ever slightly. _One day.._

No matter, the hat chirped - though its musical tone having a slight, angry edge to it. As long as there was darkness, the headdress decided, it would forever be there for its owner. For it was also the duty of a star - to protect.

The shadow, now enlarged and ever watchful from its shelter inside the tree-abundant forest, morphed into an almost evil grin. It rippled with a silent laugh, no longer feeling any joy or worry. No, that was gone.

It called back across the wind, from one sentient object to another; _And darkness will be here, waiting. Always._

44. Hospital

"Oh! Syl, look at 'em all!" Wander squealed, the sound echoing loudly down the hall of the newly built hospital building. He leaned up against the large rectangular shaped window, his hands, along with his face, squishing up against the glass plane. His smile grew even wider at the many wiggling infants.

Leaning sideways on the protruding counter, said female allowed a softer smile to grace her enlarged face. Her tail flicked once, then twice, from one side to the other, further announcing her concealed happiness at seeing the younger creatures. Her eyelids drooped, an emotion lighting up her dark eyes.

"Yeah," she sighed, agreeing with her traveling partner. "The little rascals are pretty cute, huh Wander?"

Silence. The only sound being the muffled squeals and snores of the several awaiting babes that were separated by a single door and large glass rectangle.

"Wander?" She called, pushing from her spot against the wall. Sylvia turned around in a circle, looking beneath her and over her shoulders; in the dark corners. She called for the short nomad once more; "Wander, where -"

_Thump! Thump!_

The blue furred Zbornak whipped around, once again facing the sheltered infant room. Her eyes flashed with confusion when the sudden sound was not paired with its maker, but only with soon-to-be-one-year-old children. She leaned forward slowly, large eyes scanning the room that was available to the outside spectators. "What was-"

"Sylvia!"

In response, said being stumbled back with a shout of utter surprise. Her eyes grew wide at the abrupt appearance of a bright orange creature. After a minute, it finally clicked - the waving alien, orange fur... "Wander!"

Waving, he cheered, "hi, Sylvia! Look at me!"

Hands clutching the white painted counter top, Sylvia asked - raising her voice a little higher so the nomad could hear her over the thick glass and now-louder babies. "How'd you get in there?"

Looking around at the feel of something tugging at his long furred coat, the hat-wearing alien smiled softly down at a kicking newborn. Gently prying meaty fingers from his waist, Wander, instead, offered his much larger hand for the young to grab hold of. "Over there," he pointed to a slightly ajar wooden door that was to his immediate right. It stood tall, it wooden sections harboring a small square-shaped window; unlike its partner, however, it was incredibly small and clouded.

Leaning over the side of the cradle, Wander cooed at the tot, "aw, look'it you! Aren't you a cutie? Yes you are, yes!" Hat flopping as he sharply turned his to look over his narrow shoulder, he called, "come look at them, Syl!"

Pressing her face up against the finger print-littered window, Sylvia caught a brief glance of the open door. She laughed softly under her breath, the action being accompanied by a quick shake of her head. "Alright, I'm comin'."

Sylvia knew for sure that if there was one thing that her buddy, Wander, loved more than visiting hospitals, was checking on the infants.

45. Dinosaur

"Hey, Syl?"

Looking over her shoulder, said creature answered, "yeah?"

The soft crinkling of pages being turned was the next sound that greeted the Zbornak, not the nomad's explanation. Fingers sliding across paper also filled the air, a sign that caused the female to pay more attention to the slow arriving answers.

It was about a minute or two later when Wander decided to answer, "have you ever seen a dinosaur?"

Blinking, Sylvia stopped walking. She shook her head, and said, "no, don't think so. Why?"

"Oh, okay." He said, turning yet another page in the new picture book that he had pulled out from his magical hat. Said headdress twitched and flopped ever slightly as a cooling breeze swept through the open trail, carrying with it the salty smell of the sea that was just within their eyesight.

Wander tilted his head to side and held up the book, turning it to the left so that instead of being right side up, it was now upside down. Pages sagging against the minor pull of the planet's gravity, he was still able to see the expertly drawn picture of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. His eyes widened in awe. "Wow," he breathed.

Twisting her neck around so she could sneak a look, Sylvia asked, "whatcha lookin' at there, Wander?"

Turning it, Wander showed her the two pages that he was admiring. "Isn't it cool?"

Eyes churning with surprise at the incredibly large creature, despite being on a small scale factor, Sylvia nodded her head in agreement. "Yeah, and it's pretty big." She added, and started walking along the ending (finally) forest. "But why the sudden interest in these-these-" she paused, trying to remember. "These dinosaurs?"

Wander showed her yet another page within the pop-up book, surprising his friend with a 3-D model of a green-brown-yellow scaled Stegosaurus. "_Because, _Syl! Look at them - they're _so cool and big!_" A split second later, the nomad swallowed the book up in a tight hug, crushing the bundle of hard-pressed paper against his small chest. "I bet they give great, big hugs, too! Don't you?"

Sylvia shook her head, although the action was dismissed as a large smile crossed her angular face. "Sure, bud."

Leave it to Wander to turn one of the aggressive species known into the exact opposite.

46. Bike

"Are you sure about this?" Sylvia asked, a feeling starting to form in the pit of her stomach as she continued to watch a familiar star nomad straddle a rocket-boosted bicycle. Her eyebrows furrowed in worry, mimicking the emotion that was generously coating her words when she spoke. "I-I mean, he could get hurt with this a-"

Waving a yellow-gloved hand, the engineer dismissed the worrying vibes that were coming from the Zbornak. His lip curled in defiance, and he disagreed; "Nah, it's all good!" He leaned over the side of the custom built bicycle, tweaking it once more before it was to be cleared. "I know what 'm doin'."

Crossing her arms, Sylvia mumbled, "sure ya' do," as memories from previous visits were stirred up.

"Alright," the overall-clad alien grunted, standing up. He dusted off his hands on the pants of his overalls before continuing. "Ya're all set, little man." His southern accent shining through easily as he spoke. "Ya' ready?"

Wander nodded, pulling his green - and did I mention sparkly? - helmet further down on his rounded head. "Yes!"

"Alrigh', on the count o' three." The older male announced, stepping back towards a computer. He pulled Sylvia along with him, so neither of them would get as hurt. "One...two..." he paused for a second, looking down at the assigned red button; "Three."

And then Wander was gone.

In his spot was a faint smoke outline of him and the boosted vehicle, as well as a single, thick line of tire tracks vanishing off into the far distance to the North. There was the sound of a low rumble of engines and rockets activating before a sudden, and rather loud, _BOOM - _signaling a crash.

"Wander!" Sylvia shrieked in worry, not caring anymore and rushing off in the direction that her partner had been dragged off into. Her eyes immediately locked on a column of grey smoke as it started to quickly rise up into the baby blue-colored sky. She knelt down, arms reaching out so her three-fingered hands could grab him.

"Bud, can ya' hear me?" The Zbornak asked, her voice rising close to a yell. She gently lifted the motionless form of the nomad into her lap, holding him protectively to her chest. She leaned down, listening. "Wander?"

"S-Sylvia?" Came a soft moan, and with that, Wander turned his head to his right; finding her voice.

Relief flooded her every vein at the nomad's response. "Oh, thank glob!" Sylvia sighed, her nerves, though, still standing on edge. "Are you okay, bud? Did you get hurt?" She asked as she helped the frazzled nomad stand up.

It took him a moment to respond, and when he did, it clearly took the two taller creatures by surprise.

"That..was.._awesome!_" Wander cheered, his hands waving around excitedly. "Let's go again! C'mon!" With that, he grabbed hold of the engineer's hand and started to pull the elder male towards the dented and scratch littered vehicle on its spot on the ground.

47. Run

For years he had been running all on his own. He always thought that was never going to change - he would travel from planet to star and back solo.

Wander did not really think that he would ever find someone that wanted to run with him. He hoped, but that was all it ever came to. Hope, for things that would never happen.

Until he meat Sylvia. Now, he was not so alone. He had a partner to run with, and there were no questions asked from either party.

Granted they were escaping from different pasts, but their responses were the same - to run. Together.

48. Luck

Lord Hater scowled. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, the soft ruffle of the fabric of his robe could barely be heard over the sharp clicking and whining of different buttons and small machinery. Lights colored either red, yellow, or orange blinked and shined their bright shades in his skin-less face, highlighting his deepening frown.

"One day, Wander," he growled, eyeing the endless blankness of space. He ignored the familiar shapes of passing planets and the blurry multi-colored shades of stars. "You're luck _will_ run out; and when it does.." he trailed off, the frown being replaced by an evil tinted grin. His electric green eyes narrowed, shining with growing glee.

"I'll be there."

49. Way

The small cyclops looked up longingly at the shiny - and recently polished, courtesy of the watchdog army - metal ship, squinting against the windows' glare. Rectangle teeth stared back at him, wide compared to the rest of the front's mouth. On the sides were twin pairs of incredibly large tailpipes, designed specifically for large thrusts of flames and orbal juice.

His eye scanned over the rest of the ship, rolling over red tinted windows and lighting bolt-shaped fins. Rocket boosters could barely be seen from the side, due to stretching far back. It was a magnificent piece of machinery, if you ask him.

And it was not just because he, and a few more watchdog soldiers, had built it from near-scratch. Maybe.

Peepers, who was recently promoted to commander status, rubbed his hands together, a well-known sign that one was coming up with a plan, usually. His eyelids twisted upwards in a sort of smile, or evil grin, rather. "This'll work." He muttered to himself, and took a half-step backwards. "Definitely!"

One way or another, he was going to help Lord Hater conquer the galaxy. Even if it took many years and several tries, he was going to; and the first step towards that was a ship. After all, one cannot get their way without a rather intimidating ship, right?

Peepers dashed down the hallway, roughly shoving aside a strolling soldier. Right!

50. Pranks

"Are you sure Mister Peepers and Hater will like the surprise?" Wander asked, glancing nervously over his narrow shoulder at the abandoned - by people, at least - hallway. Having taken part in this abrupt surprise, the nomad could call out every single present that him and his friend, Sylvia, had taken their time in hiding. Darkened corners and shaded crannies did no use in sheltering from the experienced eye set traps, sticky spots of super glue, blobs of glitter, and suspended bags of feathers.

Sylvia, harboring a restless alien on her saddled back, rolled her eyes, pausing in her set-up of a trip wire. Her meaty fingers worked quickly of tying knots and pressing down on a sensitive platform. She looked into wide eyes once finished, and answered quickly - more so in a rush now than before. "Yes, I'm sure."

Rushing around the corner, the Zbornak waved at a focusing camera that happened to be shaped in the form of a skull. She did not even bother to try hiding a growing smug grin. "This is going to be _awesome!_" She cheered, not caring if anyone over heard her, either.

Wander laughed alongside with Sylvia, a familiar smile appearing on his face, as well. "Yeah!" He agreed, the shout echoing further down the hall, in all directions, along with an afterthought: "Hope you like the surprise, Hater!"

Though, what Wander did not really know was that he was certainly going to give Lord Hater and his loyal watchdog army a surprise. Good or not, was up debate. But it was a funny one none the less.

"Yeah," Sylvia laughed, the playful smirk stopping its growth finally. "Surprise, surprise!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - Home

Disclaimer: The characters that make up the cartoon, Wander over Yonder, do not belong to me; neither does anything that you would recognize. Instead, those wonderful things belong to Craig McCracken and his crew.

Summary: Home comes in many shapes an sizes. Sometimes its made of four walls and a roof, while others are made out of two eyes and a hopeful heart.

Warning: Mention of Sylander (Sylvia and Wander) romance, as well as potential head-cannons. (Possibilities of it being a little AU)

**A/N: I recently started a poll for this story, so heads up! Check it out!**

Enjoy!

* * *

51. Introduction

The first time that she saw the young, orange nomad was nothing short of interesting.

52. Eyes

Ever since he was but a small one, Wander's father, as well as the rest of his kingdom, was always shocked at the amount of wonder that the bright orange nomad saw in the world.

53. Drive

Sylvia was more than just a little afraid when Wander got behind the wheel of any vehicle, be it a baby carriage or a large battleship.

54. Expectations

Since the couple days of meeting the cheerful nomad, Sylvia learned not to hold expectations over his head; for he always completed them in his own and had yet to disappoint.

55. Gray

Wander always thought the universe was a little more interesting with the in between and unusual.

56. Fortitude

Sylvia always admired her companion's ability to resist the true pain and harshness of the world; to see past that and notice the beauty of it all.

57. Vacation

Any time of rest, be it a long night's sleep or a few days at a fancy hotel, was a welcome vacation for the sky-blue Zbornak.

58. Cat

Raising an eyebrow in question, Sylvia watched in, also, silent amusement as the young alien ran around in circles in a wild attempt to catch the stray beam of sunlight.

59. No Time

In no time at all, Wander and Sylvia had become the most helpful aliens in the galaxy; and as Lord Hater glared out the window of his bedroom, he decided that they were also the most hated.

60. Blood

Despite being the most feared villain across many planets and his thirst to cause destruction, Lord Hater always became a little queasy around the sight of blood.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 - Reasons

Disclaimer: The characters that make up the cartoon, Wander over Yonder, do not belong to me; neither does anything that you would recognize. Instead, those wonderful things belong to Craig McCracken and his crew.

Summary: There were many reasons why Wander traveled the universe, but the one that was at the very top was his partner Sylvia the Zbornak.

Warning: Mention of Sylander (Sylvia and Wander) romance, as well as potential head-cannons. (Possibilities of it being a little AU)

**A/N: I recently started a poll for this story, so heads up! Check it out!**

Enjoy!

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61. Break Away

As he stared out at the beautiful snow-covered landscape, Westley smiled. If there were more pleasant morning surprises like this, then he was beyond glad that he had left Lord Hater's watchdog army.

62. Dreams

In his dreams, all was well; peaceful and full of never-ending joy. There were no jails with small prison cells, no cries of horror, and no tears of pain from scrapes and breaks. It made Wander smile from ear to ear; and it was a world that he hoped to live in one day.

63. Vow

Sylvia vowed to protect him, while Wander vowed to make her smile as bright as a new-born star.

64. 67%

As Lord Hater frowned disapprovingly down at the endlessly-chattering nomad, who was sitting next to him at the large, wooden dinning table, he was more than just sixty-seven-percent certain that it was the walking spoon's goal in life to make him as annoyed as possible.

65. Family

To Wander, it did not matter if his friends were blood related or not, they were his family and he loved them all just the same.

66. Childhood

Every day has its days that were made of blue skies and peaceful butterfly fields, but lurking around the corner equally as frequent is a storm awaiting for its chance to inflict hurt and destruction. For Hater, during his diaper-filled days, it seemed to be more of the latter rather than the first.

67. I Can't

"I can't," came the nomad's soft reply, and it caused the skeletal lord to blink in confusion at the sudden change in tone.

Arm slowly falling back to his red-and-black-robed side, Lord Hater, nearly as soft, asked, "w-what? Why?"

Nerves clinging desperately now but not for the trouble that the group had gotten themselves into, Wander wrung his hat out in front of him. He explained, although his blue eyes never met the electric green ones of the overlord; "B-Because, Hater, I-I-" he paused, eyes squeezing tight in preparation for the foreseen disagreement. "I care too much about ya'."

Finally meeting his gaze, Wander finished with a small smile on his face; "You're m'ah pal, Hater."

68. Obsession

Sometimes Sylvia's love of Jellyfish pie went a little too far.

69. Sensitive (headcannon)

Wander was always a little more cautious about his overly sensitive feet, than the danger that he would often times get himself into.

70. Music

When it came to music, Wander preferred his voice and his lovely, star-tipped banjo.

71. Horror

The watchdogs swore that the definition of horror had eight legs, big red lips that were punctuated with pearly white fangs, a large gut full of venom, and - worst of all - a bright, pink bow.

72. Magic

Ever since the first time that he laid eyes on the grass-green hat, Wander swore that it was more than just a little magical.

73. Tower

Even he seemed to stand a good two and a half feet above the orange nomad, Lord Hater had yet to figure out why it had yet to strike fear within him.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 - Family

Disclaimer: The characters that make up the cartoon, Wander over Yonder, do not belong to me; neither does anything that you would recognize. Instead, those wonderful things belong to Craig McCracken and his crew.

Summary: Family should not be made up of only people who are blood-related, instead have it be a mix; it is more fun that way.

Warning: Mention of Sylander (Sylvia and Wander) romance, as well as potential head-cannons. (Possibilities of it being a little AU)

**A/N: I recently started a poll for this story, so heads up! Check it out!**

Enjoy!

* * *

71. Horror

The watchdogs swore that the definition of horror had eight legs, big red lips that were punctuated with pearly white fangs, a large gut full of venom, and - worst of all - a bright, pink bow.

72. Magic

Ever since the first time that he laid eyes on the grass-green hat, Wander swore that it was more than just a little magical.

73. Tower

Even he seemed to stand a good two and a half feet above the orange nomad, Lord Hater had yet to figure out why it had yet to strike fear within him.

74. Deep in Thought

As the watchdog commander looked over at his silent boss, Peepers hoped that he was thinking up ways to get rid of a certain, annoying star nomad with a green hat and a wide smile.

75. Test

Sylvia inwardly frowned. Why was everything ever created trying to mess up her relationship with Wander - namely Lord Hater and his annoying, and weak, watchdog army? Was the universe trying to test her worthiness and loyalty to him?

As she softly huffed and circled tighter around the already-slumbering orange wanderer, Sylvia thought, _'hadn't I already proved myself enough?!'_

76. Drink

As he rushed into the small convenience store, Wander decided that he would do just about anything to get his favorite companion a single bottle of Thunderblazz.

77. Words

Thanks to their deep friendship, no words were required as Wander woke up with hot tears in his eyes and silently requested, with open arms, to be hugged. And Sylvia did just that, for the nomad did not need an explanation to be hugged.

78. Heal

Sylvia knew, without a doubt, that if she needed a pick-me-up, Wander would always be there to make her smile.

79. Spiral

When it came to French fries, Wander favored the curly cues more than the regular-shaped ones.

80. Puzzle

Wander knew that life was like a puzzle, and it took time to figure out the picture; but, to him, it was worth all the time that was required.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 - Storm

Disclaimer: The characters that make up the cartoon, Wander over Yonder, do not belong to me; neither does anything that you would recognize. Instead, those wonderful things belong to Craig McCracken and his crew.

Summary: Even in the darkest of storms, there is always something to light the way.

Warning: Mention of Sylander (Sylvia and Wander) romance, as well as potential head-cannons. (Possibilities of it being a little AU)

A/N: I recently started a poll for this story, so heads up! Check it out!

Enjoy!

* * *

81. Journey

Sylvia knew that if she was traveling with Wander, than things were bound to get rather interesting rather quickly.

82. Half

Two lonely halves make a whole, and it was the same concept with Wander and Sylvia.

83. Dying

Sylvia rather disliked - no, down right hated, more so than Lord Bonehead even - the idea of her little buddy, Wander, dying. She could not imagine a world, much less a day, without the cheerful nomad.

Unfortunately, there was a first time for everything; and that included the fading of a bright star.

84. Waiting

The universe waited patiently, although it continued to expand; spreading and creating even more of its breath-taking surprises. It pulsed with many millenniums of pent up happiness as it waited for someone to discover its beauty.

Fortunately, the universe and its seemingly endless creations did not have to wait for much longer; for across its wide plane, a fierce babe's delighted cry split the night.

85. Pain

Since gaining their friendship, mostly Wander's, day after day, Sylvia reminded the skeleton overlord that if he were to harm the nomad in any way at all, then she would return it; only ten times worse.

86. Oceans

Those large bodies of water that took up a part of nearly every planet that they would visit, continued to remind the traveling duo of the mysteries that lurked beneath their feet.

87. Passion

The same love that Wander held for the universe and the people that he met was not something that one would come across often; and it made the passion all that more worth while.

88. Clouds

"Oo, look at that one!" Came an excited squeal from the center of a grassy and flower-littered field. "It looks like a cute, lil' kitty!"

Folding her hands behind her angular head, the Zbornak offered a smile as means of agreement. "Yeah," she said, and then turned to the quiet overlord that was directly across from her. "What d'ya think, bonehead?"

Frowning momentarily at the nickname, Lord Hater tried a go at the game. Bright green eyes scanning the cloud-littered morning sky, he offered; "Uh, that one looks like...a rocket."

Being the first to respond, Commander Peepers cheered, "good one, sir!" And the compliment was followed by a couple rounds of claps.

Smiling wide as well, Wander agreed; "Yeah! Now, what about that one over there? Syl?"

"I think it looks like a piece of pie..."

For a moment, the skeletal overlord ignored the close partners exchange a few comments on the cloud "game". He closed his eyes with an inward sigh, 'how did he ever get sucked up into something as crazy as being alliances with cloud-watchers?'

However, as he opened his eyes to continue in the endless cloud-based activity, Lord Hater came to a smile-inducing decision: this was not so bad! After all, it gave him time to contemplate on ways to conquer new planets!

"...you, Hater?"

Jerking, said alien quickly came up with an answer; "U-Um, a-a flower?"

When he was greeted with a long round of silence, Hater knew that his answer was not one that had been originally requested.

Eyes darting back up to the quickly passing clouds, and ignoring the muffled giggles of the blue Zbornak, Lord Hater grumbled; "Shut up."

Oh, yeah, he hated this game.

89. Anger

More often times than not, the hat would offer a chakra or two to the easily-angered Zbornak; and many times said alien would become that much angrier.

Thus, activated the endless cycle of chakra giving and growl receiving between magical hat and loyal Zbornak.

90. Rich

While Wander was rich with sights of the many planets and burning stars, he, Lord Hater, was well-supplied with prisoners and conquered planets.

But the one thing that the both of hem shared equally was experience.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 - Experiences

Disclaimer: The characters that make up the cartoon, Wander over Yonder, do not belong to me; neither does anything that you would recognize. Instead, those wonderful things belong to Craig McCracken and his crew.

Summary: Experiences can be both good and bad, but the thing that matters in the end is what you due with that knowledge.

Warning: Mention of Sylander (Sylvia and Wander) romance, as well as potential head-cannons. (Possibilities of it being a little AU)

A/N: I recently started a poll for this story, so heads up! Check it out!

Enjoy!

* * *

91. Goodbye

Wander was not really one for goodbyes, they always made him too sad. He preferred "see ya' later", and it was the truth - some day, they would meet up; whether living or in the hands of the afterlife.

92. Poor

Ever since meeting that orange traveler, Sylvia had gained a new respect for poor people that loved in the cities that they often roamed through. For what those lovely people lacked in money, they had overwhelming amounts of stories and experiences.

Something, she had noticed very quickly, that the rich had very little of.

93. Power

The ability to have power was not necessarily the bad thing; though the harmful thing was how one used it.

94. Virus

Wander's cheerfulness and hopeful smiles were like a virus; easily gained and difficult to lose.

95. Home

For the traveling duo, they felt more at home in the deepest of forests with a clear view of the thousands of watchful and ever-twinkling stars.

96. Print

As the watchdog sprayed a quick line of blood red paint on the side of the brick-based building, the soldier smiled behind the bandana mask that it had quickly scavenged together. He had to say - his boss's alter in signature was a welcomed one. Colorful graffiti was a nice change compared to bold, black print.

97. Splinter

Over the long years, Wander and his trusty steed, Sylvia, had become more than a simple thorn in his side; no, something far more annoying.

98. Surprise

Sylvia had to hand it to the skeletal overlord, even someone as boring and easily predictable as he had a couple of tricks up their sleeve.

99. Rescue

Warm tears running down his rounded cheeks, Wander hugged the slumbering, blue Zbornak closer to him; fingers of the recent nightmare still clinging tightly to his heaving body.

Sylvia had been there so many times for him, whether to simply talk and exchange hugs, or to rescue him from whatever trouble he had gotten himself into.

As he sobbed, frightened, into the long neck of his most treasured companion, Wander would rather not think about that one time that she did not.

100. Guess

"Hey, Syl," a voice chirped from the right, which was immediately accompanied by something landing on her side. "Guess what!"

Rolling her eyes, although a smirk disproved the negative action, the Zbornak answered, "what?"

Crossing his skinny arms, the orange traveler dined; "Nope! Ya' gotta guess!"

"Okay, then," Sylvia sighed, "uh, hi?"

He promptly shook his head in disagreement before saying, "no!"

"Then what?"

Smiling, Wander leaned close to her ear and cupped his hands around the sides, amplifying the already soft exchange of words. "I love you," he whispered in a tiny sing-song voice.

Her annoyed frown quickly melting into a soft smile, the blue Zbornak pecked the nomad's cheek. "Love ya' too, pal,"


End file.
